


Reach Your Hand to Hold Me, But I Can't Be Your Guide

by elegantwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fallen Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possessiveness, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2012-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:53:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantwings/pseuds/elegantwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel learns what it's like to be human; Dean watches and when they're alone, pushes his limits, surprised at what Cas can handle, surprised that Cas pushes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reach Your Hand to Hold Me, But I Can't Be Your Guide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MariaDeLuca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaDeLuca/gifts).



> written after receiving the prompt: marking/possessiveness/jealousy/hurt-comfort/rimming, so contains all of the above. the jealous is incidental and the marking isn't permanent. Will possibly become a larger fic. Eventually. No promises. Title from Moonlight Drive by the Doors.

He thought that if Cas was human, he’d break.

He thought he would bend in the wind like a weak branch and snap, get every sickness he and Sam got as kids. 

Gain weight, lose hair, burn in the sun and suddenly need glasses.

But his body’s immunities hold up, and for what that doesn’t cover, he has Sam. Sam who teaches him the importance of SPF 50, of drinking orange juice if you feel run down and that how many times in a row you can get away with wearing the same pair of jeans before you start offending people. 

Dean offered to help with any number of these things but Sam and Bobby had just shared this look, the “We’re not sure how he’s survived this long but we’re certainly not trusting him with someone else’s survival” look. There’s a fight that tries to claw out of his throat, the protest that hey, Sammy turned into a health nut well above average height just fine under Dean’s supervision, but it turns out all the fight’s out of him after all, and he says nothing. 

That’s not strictly true. 

He does quietly allow Sam to find Cas clothes in the right size and teach him how to appease Bobby’s cranky washer, doesn’t say a word when someone else figures out that Cas’s got a minor allergy to the strawberries that had been bought on a whim anyway. It’s not like he ignores him or anything, either. Someone’s got to give him a proper movie education, explain the difference between what’s chocolate and what’s imported crap, and how bacon goes great on EVERYTHING, yes everything, yes that, too. He doesn’t push in where he’s been deemed not necessary; he tries not to mind when Cas discovers from someone else that toothpaste comes in other flavors and that he actually quite likes the cinnamon-y sting. 

But the fight’s not entirely out of Dean.

He thought that if Cas was human, he’d break. 

He thought he would bend quietly over a table, a bed, while Dean pounded into him from behind.

Feel a tongue around his rim and recoil in something like shame or disapproval. 

Despite these fears, Dean isn’t easy on him. Kisses him harshly, bites at his lips, at his jaw, at the nape of his neck. 

Lifts him up and slams him into the wall, gasps with surprise at how hard Cas fucks down on him, legs locked behind Dean and hands scrabbling to grasp the wall behind him.

When he comes, he comes shouting Dean’s name and a whole lot of other things Dean never thought would come out of his mouth. Things like, “fuck”, and “God yes”, and even “I love your cock” that one time Dean will never forget. Because part of Dean’s movie education included the basics, number three of which is porn. And afterwards he says other things Dean doesn’t want to hear, like “I need you,” and “I love you,” and, “You don’t have to say a thing.”

Cas is a mess of bruises sometimes, from something as simple as walking into furniture or something less simple, like Dean’s need for a physical reminder that Cas is his to worship, to screw, to, to, to everything. He leaves finger marks on his hips and hickeys on his shoulder blades, scratches his nails down his back and just rests his nose against the back of his neck and breathes and breathes until he’s memorized his scent. Until the scent of Cas is Dean’s laundry detergent and Dean’s sweat and Dean Dean Dean and there, that little bit of what used to be something completely strange, the frightening and powerful smell of otherness. Now it’s just Cas, more or less the same and when he sweats, a bit stronger. 

He doesn’t expect the tables to turn on him. Doesn’t see it coming, even though Cas has surprised him every moment up until the moment he uses all of Dean’s weaknesses and somehow Dean’s the one on his knees, Dean’s the one begging for Cas to use his fingers or his tongue or his cock or just something, anything, and it’s his body that’s covered in little reminders the next morning. He’s the one feeling cum and lube and spit running down his thighs and Cas is the one licking it all out of him again in the morning. 

Cas doesn’t break, but Dean might. 


End file.
